


If You're Gone (I Won't Belong Here)

by nu-exo (Nekohime)



Category: NU'EST, Wanna One (Band)
Genre: "historically" accurate unsafe sex, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anal Sex, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 08:59:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19169995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nekohime/pseuds/nu-exo
Summary: Seongwu would move mountains for Minhyun.  Compared to that, what was a little blood on his hands?





	If You're Gone (I Won't Belong Here)

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my google docs since onghwang week and I finally finished it! Feels good to finally get to post it after almost a year :') Thank you to my friend, A, and Bibby for reading over this for me once I was done, I super appreciate it!!
> 
> The world setting and Seongwu's abilities were inspired by Graceling and Fire (both books by Kristen Cashore) which I highly recommend if you like incredibly written, kickass female main characters and believable love stories. 
> 
> Title taken from Florence + the Machine's Breathe of Life.

  
  
  
  


 

 

A heavy silence fell over the room when Seongwu walked in, fresh from the stables, the crisp night air still clinging to him. After years, he’d grown used to it — the silences, the looks, the barbed words whispered behind his back. They didn’t matter. The only person that mattered was the one man who never shied away from looking Seongwu in the eye.

 

“Lord King,” Seongwu said, his voice carrying easily.  It used to shake when he’d speak into a quiet room, but not anymore.  “I’ve returned with news from the border towns.”

 

Minhyun nodded, brows furrowing as he took in the state of Seongwu’s clothes.  “I assume it’s not good, seeing as how you came up here before anything else.”

 

Seongwu’s mouth fell into a grim line. That was answer enough for the king.

 

“Very well,” Minhyun waved a hand, dismissing his counsel, “We’ll have the room.”

 

The older men — lesser lords, advisors, commanders — were outwardly unhappy at being sent out while Seongwu got to stay.  They’d never liked leaving their king alone with the court’s sole Iosi. None of them dared to voice their dissent, though, resigning themselves to their dismissal and filing out of the room with dark, mistrusting glances thrown Seongwu’s way.

 

“They think I whisper lies to you,” Seongwu said once the heavy wooden door had been closed behind the last man.  “Manipulate you with my words, or hypnotize you with my eyes. They really don’t like my eyes.”

 

“If only they knew the truth of your Gift,” Minhyun laughed, leaning a hip against the table he’d been pouring over when Seongwu had walked in.  “They’d have both of us thrown in chains. Claim my mind wasn’t my own and rule the kingdom as they saw fit.” He paused staring at Seongwu, holding the other man’s gaze.  Dark eyes meeting deep gold. “But they’re not entirely wrong. Your eyes do hypnotize me.”

 

Seongwu snorted, a small, begrudging smile twitching at his lips.  “I’d trade them away in an instant.”

 

Minhyun gave him a smile of his own.  Sweet, soft, understanding. “I’m aware. Now, come, what did you find in the towns?”

 

Seongwu walked over to where the king was pulling out seats for both of them, sighing softly at the comfort of sitting on plush cushions after a day of hard riding.  Minhyun poured them both some wine, pushing one of the goblets into Seongwu’s hands, completely ignoring the proper behavior of their two stations.

 

“It’s as you suspected,” Seongwu started, taking a lengthy sip from his drink, letting the wine warm him.  “The Border Lords all reported sightings of southern scouts in their lands as far north as the Frozen Rush.”

 

Minhyun nodded.  “That confirms what Minki said the last time he was here.”  He took a sip of his own wine, lips twitching in displeasure, there and gone so quickly Seongwu wouldn’t have caught it had he not been expecting it.  “That’s not why you rushed back so grim faced, though. What else did you learn?”

 

“You have spies hidden amongst your court.”

 

Minhyun let out a slow sigh through his nose, propping his elbows on his knees and letting his head hang.

 

Seongwu narrowed his eyes.  “This isn’t news to you.”

 

Minhyun raised his head enough to give Seongwu an apologetic smile.  Seongwu liked many things about the king. This smile was not one of them.

 

“This was a test,” Seongwu said.  It wasn’t a question. “You were ruling me out, Lord King.”

 

Minhyun winced at the formal address, hanging his head again.  “I didn’t want to.”

 

“Jonghyun.”  Again, not a question.

 

Minhyun nodded.  His fringe was falling forward like a curtain, hiding his expression from Seongwu, but Seongwu didn’t need to see his face to catch the shame and regret that colored the other man’s ears red.

 

Seongwu took a deep, calming breath.  As much as he understood where Jonghyun was coming from, he hated that the spy master’s distrust of Seongwu left Minhyun stuck between them like this.  It left him at a constant impasse with the spy master. Neither of them able to agree on anything beyond the fact that Minhyun must be kept safe no matter the cost.

 

“It was a reasonable worry,” Seongwu eventually said, taking a bigger gulp of his wine, resisting the urge to drain it in one go.

 

Minhyun let out a small, self deprecating laugh that had Seongwu’s chest squeezing painfully.  “No it wasn’t. I told him you would never betray the kingdom like that.” He sighed again, rubbing at the back of his neck.  “We shouldn’t have told him what your Gift was. He trusts you less for it.”

 

_ Indeed he does _ , Seongwu thought wryly.  Jonghyun was a smart man who, despite everything, Seongwu respected.  Trusted even, where the king was concerned. He’d grown up with Minhyun after all, and Seongwu suspected that at one point he’d even been in love with the then prince.  

 

And then, Seongwu had dropped into their lives.  His family, his tribe, everyone he’d cared about gone because the kingdom to the east, ruled by the Ha family, had decided they didn’t like the trade regulations Minhyun’s father was asking for.  It wasn’t seen as a loss by most. The Io were feared for their strange eyes and stranger abilities, each skill as different as the person who wielded it. But, ten-year-old Prince Minhyun had somehow managed to become fast friends with the last remaining Iosi.  They were the same age, and Minhyun was persistent. Before Seongwu realized what was happening, he found himself willing to help Minhyun any way he needed, even if that meant getting his own hands bloody in the process. That dedication being the main reason Jonghyun hadn’t killed him the night Seongwu’s ability had been disclosed.

 

“It couldn’t be helped,” Seongwu shrugged.  “Jonghyun is smart, he would’ve eventually figured it out on his own. He’d trust me even less in that case.”

 

Minhyun sat back in his seat, scrubbing a hand through his hair, some of the strands left sticking up and displaced in interesting ways that had Seongwu’s fingers twitching to touch.  An impulse he controlled. He looked like  _ Minhyun _ in that moment, hair mussed and dark eyes glittering with all the words he was biting back, not Hwang Minhyun, the young King of Bern.

 

And now Minhyun, his Minhyun, the one he’d sworn to serve, was shuffling forward, leaning closer until his knees were touching Seongwu’s.  Finely made cloth pressed to the rough material of Seongwu’s travel clothes.

 

“I just,” he reached out, gently pulling Seongwu’s hands into his own, “I just want you to be safe.”

 

The admission was whispered, but it echoed loud and clear in the empty room.

 

Seongwu’s chest went tight again, something thundering through his veins that he didn’t want to name.  He used Minhyun’s hold on him to pull their joined hands towards himself, placing a kiss on each finger.  A promise. He paused at the gold ring sitting around Minhyun’s middle finger, stroking his thumb over the crest engraved in its center.  He looked up at Minhyun from under his lashes, meeting his king’s dark, dark eyes as he pressed his lips right over the royal crest. A vow.

 

“Your safety  _ is _ my safety,” he breathed, lips brushing Minhyun’s fingers.  “So long as you live, so do I.”

  
  
  


♕

  
  
  


The tense truce Seongwu and Jonghyun had come to regarding Minhyun included Seongwu’s assistance whenever the spymaster needed it.  Sometimes it meant gathering intelligence from their border towns, or checking on their allies to be sure they hadn’t changed allegiance.  Other times, it meant interrogating those kept deep in the castle’s keep. Walking down the drafty stairwell with a torch to light his way, Seongwu knew what was about to be asked of him on this occasion.

 

“It’s the dead of night and I’ve just returned,” he grumbled, approaching the figure waiting for him.  “Could this really not have waited until morning?”

 

“I apologize for pulling you from the King’s bed in the middle of the night,” Jonghyun said, eyeing the thin shirt and hastily put on trousers that Seongwu was wearing with obvious judgement, “but, this was urgent.”

 

Seongwu frowned but didn’t complain further.  He noted that it was only him and Jonghyun in the outer room leading to the prison cells, the gangly assistant he’d sent to fetch Seongwu nowhere to be seen.  A set of daggers already laid spread out on the sole table.

 

“This wouldn’t have to do with the spies I recently learned of, would it?” He asked, walking over to the weapons.

 

He picked one up, a wicked thing that he knew Jonghyun favored when dealing with particularly uncooperative enemies they’d managed to capture, turning it over in the firelight.  There was blood drying on it, tacky and wet.

 

Behind him, Jonghyun sighed and Seongwu could tell the other man was rubbing a tired hand over his face without even looking.  “I wouldn’t have woken you otherwise.”

 

He didn’t comment on or apologize for suspecting Seongwu.  Not that Seongwu had expected him to.

 

“Very well,” Seongwu put the blade back down.  He wouldn’t need it. “Lead the way.”

 

The hall Jonghyun led him down wasn’t the main one to the cells.  It was hidden behind a false wall, accessed by pushing heavily on a set of stones that swung open like a door.  Where most of the castle was dry and warm, even in winter, the exception being the cells which while dry were rarely warm, this path was damp and  _ cold _ .  It had Seongwu shivering lightly in his thin shirt, rubbing at his arms to try and dispel the chill that had settled bone deep within seconds.

 

“I apologize,” Jonghyun said again, shirking off one of the layers he was wearing, tossing it over to Seongwu, “I told Seonho to have you grab something warm but he must’ve forgotten.”

 

Seongwu chuckled, gladly accepting the cloak he’d been offered.  “It wasn’t the boy’s fault. I don’t think he fully understood that he was retrieving me from the King’s chambers until he was there. He was a bit flustered.”

 

Jonghyun snorted, not unkindly, which was great progress from the icy demeanor he’d treated him with back when Seongwu and Minhyun’s relationship had first changed.  “He won’t tell anyone.”

 

“Wasn’t worried that he would. If you sent him, I know you trust him, and that’s enough for me.”

 

Jonghyun paused outside a rough hewn door, turning to consider Seongwu in the weak light of the hall’s sparse torches.  His expression was carefully neutral as he held Seongwu’s gaze. He didn’t do it with the natural ease Minhyun did it with, but Seongwu could appreciate the effort.  Few people were like Minhyun, after all.

 

“I appreciate your trust.”

 

Seongwu offered him a smile that was a touch too sharp, walking up to the door and stopping by Jonghyun, rolling his shoulders so he was standing at his full height.  Jonghyun didn’t flinch but Seongwu saw him tense.

 

“And I would appreciate yours in return,” Seongwu told him, before pushing past and into the next room.

 

From one step to the next, Seongwu’s mind sharpened and unfurled.  He touched on Jonghyun’s mind, a light knock on the hard wall that guarded his thoughts to let him know he was starting.  Then, he reached further ahead, to where he sensed the prisoner huddled in his cell. He slipped into the man’s mind with an ease that used to scare him, sinking claws in deep so that even when the man realized what Seongwu was, he wouldn’t be able to force him out.  Not that most people would, but it was always better to be safe when dealing with spies. You never knew what type of training a person might have had.

 

Seongwu nodded to Jonghyun and then they moved forward together.

 

_ I should probably tell you, _ Jonghyun thought, opening his mind just enough to communicate with Seongwu.   _ We caught this man a week ago. He’d been trying to poison Minhyun. _  Seongwu sucked in a sharp breath.   _ We need to know who sent him, and what their plan is.  Yes, that’s a good look in your eyes. No need to hold back, now. _

 

Seongwu didn’t need to say anything for Jonghyun to know he wasn’t planning to.

 

They stopped in front of the cell, Seongwu narrowing the cold fury bubbling up in his chest to a fine point, wielding it like a knife.  When he spoke, he cut into the prisoner’s mind, shocking him out of the stupor he’d sunk himself into.

 

“Evening. It seems that you tried to kill the king.”  Thoughts of Minhyun, dead and pale, floated to the surface of the would-be assassin’s mind and Seongwu had to swallow back the urge to simply rip the man’s mind to shreds.  “Let’s start with something simple. What’s your name?”

  
  


His name was Ha Minho, and every piece of information Seongwu dragged out of him was a fight.  A losing fight for the assassin, but a fight nonetheless. He was some cousin of King Sungwoon, multiple times removed.  He’d been sent to Bern to kill Minhyun as a test, to prove his worth and loyalty to the crown. He’d been warned that the Bern king kept an Iosi close, although they didn’t know what his Gift was.  He’d waited and watched until Seongwu had been sent away to make his move. Unfortunately for him, he’d been so focused on Seongwu’s movements and the king, that he hadn’t noticed Jonghyun and his network of spies watching him in return.

 

“What are King Sungwoon’s plans? And does it involve the southern king?”

 

“I don’t know,” Minho spat.  Part lie, part truth. A useless answer if Seongwu couldn’t figure out which part was which.

 

“Hmm, let’s try this again,” Seongwu crouched down, leaning close to the cell bars.  The young noble inched forward like a flower seeking the sun. He found Seongwu and his eyes intoxicating, unable to resist getting closer even if he knew his mind was loosening.  “What are your cousin’s plans?”

 

A pause.  “I don’t know.”

 

Jonghyun opened a feeling to him.  Amusement. Ha Minho wasn’t a very good liar when all was said and done.

 

“You can do better than that,” Seongwu smiled, lowering his voice to a purr.

 

“I,” Minho swallowed, “I don’t know...much. H-he’s preparing f-for war. He w-wants your land. Your king, he- he’s in the way.”

 

Seongwu’s anger was sitting on his skin, a physical weight, but he didn’t let it show in his face.  “Is King Jisung in the south involved? Or his brother, Prince Daniel?”

 

Minho shook his head, eyes wide, eager to please now that the topic had been diverted to another kingdom.  “No. But they’re next.” He grinned, a bit unhinged, his mind no longer his own, Seongwu twisting it to get as much from it as he could.  “Their ships won’t do them any good when we attack.”

 

“No,” Seongwu hummed, glancing back to Jonghyun whose mind was already whirring with half formed plans.  “I suppose they wouldn’t. Thank you, Minho.”

 

Minho smiled, reaching a tentative, dirty hand towards Seongwu through the bars.

 

_ Shut him down, Seongwu. We’ll be keeping him for a while _ .

 

Seongwu grinned, feral and sharp, freezing Minho in his tracks.  He thought of how this little fool had come into their kingdom seeking glory in the death of their king.  He thought of what could’ve happened if Jonghyun hadn’t been as good at his job as he was. He thought of Minhyun, sleeping fitfully up in his bed, expecting to find Seongwu beside him when he woke.  

 

_ It would be my pleasure. _

  
  
  


♕

  
  
  


When war came in their lands, it was slow until it wasn’t.  Seongwu, officially, was one of two commanders leading Minhyun’s armies.  This meant that now that war was declared, his time was split between the skirmishes taking place on their eastern border and the castle, helping Jonghyun and Minhyun verify the information they were getting from the soldiers they captured in battle.

 

It was exhausting.  But, Minhyun needed him.  The king was looking just as tired as his troops, his shoulders constantly hunched with the burden placed on them.  Whenever Seongwu was back, switching off with Dongho, he made sure to pull Minhyun aside and force him to rest, even if it was never for as long as he would’ve liked.

 

“We’re losing,” Minhyun confided in him during one of those reprieves, head pillowed in Seongwu’s lap.  They were on the floor of Minhyun’s bed chambers, Seongwu leaning up against the foot of Minhyun’s bed, running his fingers through the other man’s hair.  “We’re losing and I don’t know what to do about it.”

 

“That’s a lie,” Seongwu chided gently.  “You do know what to do. You just don’t want to do it.”

 

Minhyun frowned, his beautiful, sharp eyes darkening with displeasure.  He reached a hand up, cupping Seongwu’s cheek as best as he could from his position.  “I don’t want to use you.”

 

“We’re at war, my king.”  Seongwu gave him a smile. “We will all have to do things we don’t want to do.”

 

Minhyun sighed, letting his hand fall to cover his own eyes.  Seongwu let the silence in the room grow while Minhyun thought, closing his eyes to listen to the ever present hum of activity beyond the doors of Minhyun’s rooms.  If he concentrated, he could feel the restlessness of the troops he’d be leaving with the next morning, their minds buzzing with pre-battle energy. And next to him, Minhyun’s mind, a self-contained whirlwind, open to Seongwu if he asked.

 

In his lap, Minhyun shifted, sitting up, so close Seongwu could feel the warmth of his body through his clothing.  He took a deep breath in, the scent of pine, old parchment, and something indescribably Minhyun filling his lungs.

 

“Look at me, Seongwu. Please.”

 

Seongwu, helpless to all of Minhyun’s wishes, opened his eyes.  Minhyun’s face was a hair’s breadth away, nose just brushing Seongwu’s.  He looked so sad, resolved in whatever decision he’d come to, but so very, very sad.  It broke Seongwu’s heart. He’d never wanted to see Minhyun like this again.

 

“Your eyes change ever so slightly depending on your mood,” Minhyun breathed against Seongwu’s mouth, tongue sliding out to wet his lips.  “Did you know that?”

 

“No,” Seongwu mumbled, distracted by the way Minhyun was crawling into his lap, settling like a welcome weight over him, “I didn’t.”

 

“When you’re happy, they turn the color of the finest mead.”  He placed a kiss at the corner of Seongwu’s mouth. “When you’re worried, they darken to the color of rich honey.”  Another kiss to the opposite corner. “When you’re angry, they flash the most amazing pale gold.” He pressed their foreheads together, lips brushing against Seongwu’s with every word spoken.  “And when you’re like this, with me, they darken to amber.”

 

_ Kiss me. _

 

The thought was pushed at Seongwu so fiercely it took his breath away.  Seongwu didn’t hesitate, closing the infinitesimal space between them, gladly meeting Minhyun’s slightly parted lips with his own.

 

_ When you go, take Dongho with you _ , Minhyun thought at him while he slid his tongue into Seongwu’s mouth.   _ I don’t want you out there alone when you use your Gift. I have confidence in our men, but the second Sungwoon’s troops realize what you can do, you’ll become a target. Sungwoon will want you for himself _ .

 

Seongwu let out a grunt, burying a hand in the soft strands of Minhyun’s dark hair.  He gave a soft tug, humming in content when Minhyun moaned at the sensation. They had too much clothing on and not enough time to do anything but rut against each other, but it was enough.  Kissing Minhyun until the other was pulling back, gasping for breath and giving Seongwu access to the pale column of his neck, was enough. For now.

 

_ Stay tonight, and ride tomorrow morning. Please, Seongwu, be careful. _

 

Seongwu bit and sucked mark after mark into Minhyun’s skin, loosening the ties on Minhyun’s trousers enough to slip his hand in, drawing a desperate whine from Minhyun’s throat as he stroked him. 

 

“You’re planning something, Minhyun. Something you aren’t telling me,” Seongwu said.  It wasn’t an accusation. Seongwu wanted him to know that he was aware Minhyun was holding something back, and that he would still leave in the morning to defend Minhyun’s kingdom.  His throne. Because he trusted Minhyun more than he trusted himself. Because he was the king he’d pledged himself to, back when they were both children and they couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to be twenty-three and in love with someone you knew better than yourself.

 

“Promise you’ll be careful,” Minhyun gasped aloud, voice wrecked.  “Promise.”

 

Seongwu stroked faster over the heated skin of Minhyun’s cock, using the fluid that gathered at the tip to smooth his way.  Minhyun, in turn, slipped a hand between them to palm at Seongwu through his pants. Seongwu curled around him in response, heat rising in his gut and stars dotting his vision.

 

“ _ Fuck _ , Minhyun, I promise.  _ I promise _ .”

  
  
  


Neither moved until long after they’d come down from their highs.  Minhyun, who’d been working himself into the ground, had dozed off into a fitful slumber, wrapping himself tighter around Seongwu when the other tried to move.  Chest filled with affection, Seongwu carefully hauled Minhyun up, placing the king on his bed before climbing in after him.

 

Seongwu would ride to the frontlines in the morning, and Minhyun...Minhyun would do whatever he was planning that he didn’t want Seongwu to know. But, that would be in the morning. For now, they’d rest and enjoy what time they had.

  
  
  


♕

  
  
  


Dongho didn’t ask why both commanders were heading to the same conflict point.  He was the type to trust on merit and had long since decided Seongwu was worthy of having his back, regardless of the mystery surrounding his Iosi Gift.  

 

So, when Seongwu told him they’d both be riding east to the border town of Fenn, where the fighting had been and remained the worst, Dongho didn’t question it.  All he did was grin and ask, “When do we leave?”

 

Seongwu was thankful for his cheerful compliance.  It made leaving Minhyun easier, although not by much.

 

They rode hard.  Seongwu, Dongho, and the thundering of near eight hundred soldiers on horseback following in their wake.  They made good time, joining up with their soldiers just as the sun was touching down on the horizon. It was sobering to think how quickly King Sungwoon’s army would be on them if they managed to breach their line.  Then again, that’s why Seongwu was here, planning to do what he was.

 

Without pause, they rode through their own camp, past the healers tending to the wounded, and out onto the battlefield where the sounds of metal clashing with metal was a near constant, neither side giving ground.  Seongwu drew his sword, a beautiful thing with a wolf’s head pommel that Minhyun had gifted him on his eighteenth birthday, and heard the soldiers around him do the same.

 

He took a deep breath, letting the thud of horse hooves under him and the sounds of battle ahead of him center his thoughts, quiet the heavy beat of his own pulse.  And then he let his mind  _ stretch _ .  He felt the fear, the worry, the determination of the men and women around him as they rode to what they knew could be their deaths.  He let it wash over him and remind him that they were his soldiers as much as Minhyun’s in this moment. His to protect. 

 

He sent a simple message out to Dongho, the other man barley flinching, and Seongwu was thankful once again for his presence.

 

_ No matter what happens, Sungwoon’s men do not get past us. _

 

Dongho replied with grim determination, his surprise expertly pushed down, a single image flashing through his head.  Their king, laughing, smiling, happy.

 

Seongwu smiled.  And then they were fighting.

  
  
  


♕

  
  
  


Something about battle made all sense of time slip away.  It was easy to lose yourself to a morbid rhythm of guard, side-step, hack, slash, repeat.  Seongwu let himself fall into the pattern, his body moving on instinct and reflex while his mind spread out like a series of vines, burrowing themselves into the heads of enemy soldiers around him.

 

He made himself the eye of the storm.  The center of their focus. Obliterating the minds of those closest before felling them with quick strokes of his sword. Those further away, he made distracted enough for their men to easily strike down, minimizing the overall damage to their side.  It was taxing, and Seongwu knew he’d be feeling the sting of over-exertion the second he paused, but it was worth it when he felt more of Ha’s men dying, their minds blinking out one after another.

 

Body after body fell under Seongwu’s sword, blood splattering his skin, his armor, seeping through his chainmail to his underclothes.  His hair was sticking to his forehead, slick with sweat and the light drizzle that had begun to fall, turning the dirt under their feet to treacherous mud.  Seongwu’s muscles ached and burned, his mind even more exhausted than his body, but he didn’t let up; not until he finally heard the call for retreat, Sungwoon’s men slipping back to their base camp like the receding tide.

 

Seongwu watched them go, taking out any stragglers within reach, his legs threatening to collapse under him.  He dug his sword into the ground, letting himself lean against it as he caught his breath, taking quick stock of his body.  There was an ache in his shoulder, his shield arm throbbing from being wrenched the wrong way at some point, and he had a gash running along the outside of his thigh, but nothing too serious.  Some wine and rest and he’d be ready for the next wave.

 

“I always wondered why Minhyun was so tight-lipped about your Gift,” Dongho said, making his way over.  He had a bleeding cut over one eye and mud caked into the grooves of his armor but looked otherwise okay.  “I doubt the Council would be happy knowing a mind reader had the king’s ear. Even if it’s a damn useful ability in battle,” he laughed, clapping Seongwu on the shoulder, almost knocking him over, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone fight like that before.”

 

“I doubt King Sungwoon’s men have, either,” Seongwu huffed, accepting Dongho’s help back to where some of their men were waiting with their horses.

 

Dongho nodded.  “They’ll be coming for you without your needing to direct them next time.”

 

Seongwu’s mouth pressed into a grim line, determination running like an undercurrent through his body.  “Yes. They will.”

 

“I can only imagine that was your plan from the start,” Dongho snorted.  He shook his head, making sure Seongwu was able to mount up before climbing onto his own horse.  “Crazy bastards. You and our king both.”

 

Seongwu thought of Minhyun, planning something he knew Seongwu and Jonghyun would likely try to talk him out of.  Thought of the gamble he was taking now in order to protect his king and his kingdom.

 

“Would you rather share the battlefield with any other kind?”

 

Dongho laughed, full chested and bright amidst the dull gray and brown of the trampled landscape.  “No, I suppose not.”

  
  
  


♕

  
  
  


On the third day of fighting, while Seongwu was back at camp taking stock of their troops and supplies, using the opportunity to lessen the burden on his mind, Jonghyun rode into camp.  Seongwu recognized his mind before the first outriders noticed his approach, Jonghyun’s thoughts rising and crashing like a storm, uncharacteristically loose with the force of his anger.

 

“Did you know?” he demanded, storming into the war tent, fury lining his face.

 

Seongwu turned to him with a wince, the spymaster’s anger sharp and loud and invasive, memories that weren’t Seongwu’s own flashing through his head too quickly to make sense of.  “Know what? Jonghyun, why are you here? You’re supposed to be-”

 

Jonghyun didn’t come to a stop until he was nearly chest to chest with Seongwu, baring his teeth in a snarl.  “Did you know what Minhyun was going to do?”

 

Seongwu frowned, biting back the urge to either take a step back or press forward and force Jonghyun to stand down.  “Minhyun? No, I- what happened? Is he okay?”

 

“You-” Jonghyun scoffed, mean and cutting.  “You expect me to believe you, with your- your  _ power _ , didn’t know what Minhyun was planning?”

 

Seongwu went still, a cool chill running down his spine.  He was keenly aware of the others in the tent with them, ranked soldiers who’d been there to discuss war stratagems, all watching on with wide-eyed confusion.

 

“Dongho,” Seongwu called, voice cracking from the sudden build up of stress in his throat.  His chest felt tight.

 

He didn’t need to elaborate, Dongho quickly clearing the tent, casting a quick disapproving glance at Jonghyun before ushering the last person out and moving to stand guard outside.

 

“I’d expect you of all people to be mindful of your words,” Seongwu said, voice low, eyes sharp.  “I understand your stress, I can  _ feel _ it, Jonghyun, but  _ I don’t know what’s happened _ and  _ I won’t _ unless you tell me.”  He took a steadying breath.  “Please, Jonghyun. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

 

“I-” Jonghyun let out a frustrated sigh, running a harsh hand through his hair.  He dropped his head, taking a moment to calm himself, Seongwu feeling his anger fade into stress-tinged exhaustion.  “You’re right. I’m sorry,” he said voice quiet and defeated in a way Seongwu had never heard it before, “I was just- I didn’t want to believe he would do something so foolishly reckless without-  _ he didn’t tell me _ .”

 

“Didn’t tell you what?”

 

Jonghyun pulled out a folded piece of parchment from where he’d stashed it between his riding leathers and tunic, handing it over to Seongwu before sinking into the nearest seat.

 

Seongwu slowly unfolded the parchment, eyes flitting between it and Jonghyun, a sense of foreboding settling deep in his bones.  It was a note, writing in rushed but painfully familiar flowing script. Seongwu read, sucking in a harsh breath, the tightness in his chest that had ebbed coming back in full force, coiling around his lungs like a snake.

 

He read it.  And then he read it again.  And again, willing the words to make sense in his rapidly numbing mind.

 

Seongwu thought of the regret in Minhyun’s eyes the night before Seongwu left to the frontlines.  The determination. The storm of his mind, possible outcomes whirling around a well-hidden plan.

 

Seongwu’s words to Jonghyun felt like a lie, heavy on his tongue.

 

“We could go after him,” he said, voice faint.

 

Jonghyun, who’d been watching him — watching how he reacted — gave him a look of resigned commiseration.  “He left two nights ago. He had Jinyoung cover his departure. We wouldn’t be able to cover enough ground in time.”  He shook his head. Seongwu had never seen him look so...defeated. “No one knew. He made sure of it.”

 

Seongwu had.  No. That wasn’t quite true.  He’d had an inkling, but he  _ trusted _ Minhyun.  Trusted that, as their king and as the man he loved, Minhyun wouldn’t do anything without thinking through all his choices.  

 

Seongwu had to remind himself to breathe.

 

He placed the note on the war table with a shaking hand, laying it amongst the maps and battlefield sketches.  He lifted his head, his eyes meeting Jonghyun’s. Gold locking with brown. A silent understanding passing between them. 

 

All they could do was wait, and pray. 

  
  
  


♕

  
  
  


_ You will not be pleased with me when you receive this, Jonghyun, of that I’m sure.  I didn’t see any other way to win, though. Our kingdom is fierce and strong, but we simply don’t have the numbers.  You know that as well as I. Even with the risk Seongwu is taking onto himself, if something isn’t done, we’ll lose. I refuse to lose, Jonghyun.  This is my kingdom, our home. I will do what I must to keep it safe. I know you’ll be mad. I know you’ll likely blame Seongwu. But, I can promise that he did not know.  He wouldn’t have left had he known. _

 

_ And to Seongwu, my love.  Please forgive me for hiding this from you.  I couldn’t have you attempting to stop or join me.  You needed to be where you are, or our lines would’ve been breached before I could even set things into motion.  I’ll return safely. I’ll return to you. I promise. _

 

_ Please.  Protect each other.  Until my return, Bern is yours to guard. _

 

 

_ \- Minhyun _

 

  
  
  


♕

  
  
  


Jonghyun stayed with Seongwu and Dongho at the field camp, running his network of spies through a tent they had helped him set up near their own.

 

“What of Minhyun’s court? His advisors?”  Seongwu asked, allowing Jonghyun to check over healing injuries with deft and nimble fingers while rain fell like a curtain outside.

 

“I have Seonho and Jinyoung sending me reports,” Jonghyun said, understanding immediately what Seongwu had truly been asking.   _ With you here, who’s watching them? Who’s ensuring Minhyun’s throne will be his when he comes back? _  “And, I have eyes on anyone with even an ounce of influence or sway.”  Jonghyun handed Seongwu his shirt and tunic back, signalling he was done.  “If any of them so much as show an inclination towards treason…” Jonghyun trailed off, his eyes glittering in the firelight, dark and dangerous.

 

Seongwu couldn’t help the smirk that twitched at his lips, a mixture of amusement and relief.  Jonghyun was small and pretty with a violent beast hidden just under his skin. Of course he hadn’t left the castle without ensuring nothing would transpire without his knowledge.

 

Jonghyun rolled his eyes at Seongwu’s expression, waving a dismissive hand at him.  “Go. Rest. There won’t be any fighting in this rain. Send Dongho in on your way out.”

 

Seongwu nodded and left, sending the same assurance to Jonghyun as he stepped into the rain that he had been since Jonghyun first rode into camp.

 

_ He’s alive.  He’ll be back.  We’ll win. Everything will work out. _

  
  
  


♕

  
  
  


That night, Seongwu dreamt of warm brown eyes and soft, pink lips.  He dreamt of the southern kingdom by the sea, the ocean’s brine salty on his tongue.  Cool sheets and uncertainty blended with a bone deep loneliness. His name, a half-formed whisper from a mouth he knew better than his own.

 

When Seongwu woke, it was with wet eyes and Minhyun’s name breathed into the cold of his tent.

  
  
  


♕

  
  
  


The fighting dragged on, a messy, brutal, bloody push and pull.  Every time they forced Ha’s men back, they’d simply return with fresh troops and gleaming swords, tireless in a way Bern’s soldiers couldn’t be.  Even with Seongwu they were just barely holding their line, a single Iosi, no matter how strong his Gift, not much in the face of sheer numbers.

 

He tore into men’s minds, swaying the swing of their blade as best he could, ripping their consciousness to pieces when necessary.  He did what he could, letting his desire to survive drive him, letting his anger at the lives being lost due to a king’s taste for conquering numb him. 

 

Blood in his eye from a freely flowing cut, a burning in his side that meant a reopened wound, his hands aching from the white-knuckled,  _ desperate _ , grip on his sword.

 

Seongwu did what he could.

 

He hacked through the arm of one man that tried to pin him down.  Sliced off the head of another who’d set their sights on Dongho. Drove a dagger through the thigh of someone who’d managed to get too close, their thoughts reflecting the orders they’d been given.  That Bern’s Iosi was good dead or alive. 

 

He whirled around, never allowing himself to stop, his blade flashing in a constant, deadly dance, a cold snarl on his face.  He wanted to rest. His body  _ begged him to rest _ .

 

Seongwu grunted, his arm screaming in protest at a poorly parried strike, the clang of metal traveling down to his wrist and settling in his elbow.   _ Dodge, parry, strike, hack, slash, slash, slash _ .

 

Seongwu did what he had to.

With the echo of distant emotions he didn’t recognize as his own throbbing softly in his chest,  _ Seongwu did what he had to _ .

  
  
  


♕

  
  
  


A week after Minhyun left and ten days after Seongwu and Dongho’s joint arrival to the battlefield, they lost Fenn.

 

Inevitable.  That’s what Jonghyun had called it, his mouth twisted into a frustrated sneer as they rode away from the town in the dead of night, some of the townspeople who had stayed till the end amongst their ranks.  They all had the same sad, tired, defeated downward slope to their shoulders. It weighed like a rock on Seongwu’s lungs. These were Minhyun’s people. These were his lands. Fenn was a town under his protection.  And, they’d lost it to a king with a pension for greed driven ambitions. 

 

It may have been inevitable, but it still felt like failure.

  
  
  


♕

  
  
  


The journey to the southern kingdom of Sol-Sur took a little over a week from Bern’s castle city when riding alone, stopping only to rest and trade for a fresh horse.

 

It took nearly double that to travel with a procession of any sort — supply carts forcing a slower pace. 

 

That amount of time on the battlefield could mean victory or defeat. 

 

It meant exhaustion creeping into bones, burrowing so deep that no amount of rest could oust it.  It meant muscles and joints growing tight with healing wounds and fresh scars. It meant watching Dongho take a strike to the chest that had blood splashing forth and Seongwu going cold, too far to stop it, too tired to reach with his mind and pull at the enemy’s arm, leg,  _ anything _ .  It meant watching Minki, who hated fighting more than anything, charge at the man who’d cut down his friend, delicate features set in a mask of cold-blooded fury.  It had Seongwu praying, slashing his way towards where he’d seen Dongho go down, the names of gods and goddesses that used to be familiar, now foreign, spilling from his lips in a ceaseless stream.

 

_ Please, please, please _ .

 

“The Iosi!”

 

Seongwu growled, side-stepping and swinging his sword in a sharp brutal arc, the motion swift and precise.  Blood splattered his face, warm and wet. He kept moving.

 

_ Mann’it, Vaal, Tier’Bahn, anyone, everyone _ .

 

In his periphery, Lord Lai’s son was trying to hold off a man taller even than himself, a boy in the face of an actual giant.  Park Woojin of North Post was fighting back-to-back with Park Jihoon of Fenn, their expressions set into hard lines of grim determination as slowly found themselves surrounded.

 

“No,” he breathed, torn between helping boys he’d seen grow up, and continuing his path forward to where Minki was still fighting, doing his best to protect Dongho’s prone form.

 

_ Not them.  Focus on me.  On  _ me. 

 

Pressure built in Seongwu’s head, coiling tight and pushing against the inside of his skull.  He’d spent years training to reign in and tame his Gift, the abilities of the Iosi being wild things that tended towards having a mind of their own, his more so than others.  It had been tireless,  _ thankless _ work.  All to be able to be around Minhyun and not fear what he might do, what he  _ could _ do.

 

But, there were so many minds, so many thoughts, so many wills around him now, each louder than the next, and he was so desperate, so tired,  _ so scared _ .  

 

The pressure in his head turned to pain, sharp and insistent.

 

Ahead, a soldier Minki couldn’t see, wouldn’t be able to see with his focus kept forward, raised their sword.

 

Seongwu let out a frustrated yell, his arms tired and sore, blood trickling slowly from open wounds, new and old.  His Gift wasn’t listening.  _ It wasn’t listening _ .  He had to do something, though.   _ Anything _ .  

 

Tears of anger and hopelessness burned behind his eyes as he shouted, voice hoarse, “ _ Focus on me! _ ” 

 

And it was like a dam breaking.

 

His Gift rushed out so quickly, like the cascading rapids of the Frozen Rush, that it left Seongwu falling to his knees with a gasp.  From one instance to the next he was aware of every mind around him, every thought, every feeling. All of it pried open and laid bare for Seongwu to grasp, to pull, to  _ bend _ to his will.

 

He felt everyone’s confusion at the sudden presence of his mind in their own, the dawning realization of what it was, the fear of what it meant.  His eyes met Dongho’s, the man — sturdy as a  _ fucking ox _ — having managed to push himself up with an arm.

 

The message he was sending was clear.  With a slow, almost pained breath in, Seongwu thought a single, simple command.

 

_ Stop. _

 

And everyone did.

 

Seongwu let out the breath he was holding in a short, almost manic laugh.  Everyone was frozen around him, his Gift flourishing in a way it never had before with his last bit of control relinquished and instinct taking over.  He’d halted the movement of near a thousand bodies with a single thought. From the men closest to him, all the way to King Ha himself, out somewhere on the battlefield.  Even the horses had frozen mid-step.

 

Seongwu laughed again, even more disbelieving than before.  This was more than directing someone’s focus. This was stopping all motion at the fundamental level.

 

It was both overwhelming, and intoxicating.

 

Something warm trickled down from his nose, a sensation he barely registered over the odd way his body felt like it was floating.  Seongwu brought a hand up to swipe at his upper lip, feeling an awful lot like he was dragging his arm through honey, his fingers coming away red.

 

A small voice in the back of his head — a deep rooted survival instinct that had managed to surface a clear and cohesive thought while his mind was blown out the way it was — warned him that blood was never a good sign.  It stressed that he’d never stretched his reach to this extent, his Gift a physical burden on his body, even if its effects weren’t always as tangible to others.

 

This was a last ditch effort, a survival instinct.  Not something to count on. Not something he’d be able to hold for long.

 

He winced, feeling something snap.  A thread of power connected to the muscle of someone he couldn’t see giving way.   _ Snap, snap, snap _ .  He curled forward clutching his head, more strands coming loose.

 

Panic washed over Seongwu.  He had to give a command. Had to think of something that would end the fighting, now, while he still could.  But he couldn’t distinguish friend from foe. He couldn’t pick out their men from King Ha’s. If Seongwu gave an order, it would be followed by everyone his mind touched.

 

He wouldn’t-  _ couldn’t _ -

 

Seongwu’s breath caught in his throat.

 

Hoof beats.  Too far to hear through his own ears yet, but reaching him all the same through a ripple of thoughts, those on the outer reaches of his control unintentionally transmitting the riders’ approach.

 

Many hoofbeats.  The sound louder from one heartbeat to the next in the unnatural quiet Seongwu had created.  The thunderous approach of hundreds of horses vibrating lowly through the ground. Panic and excitement spreading through the still frozen soldiers in equal parts, leaving Seongwu desperately trying to figure out who was feeling what.

 

And then his name.  Clear and strong and so very, very _ proud _ .

 

_ Seongwu _ .

 

The sound Seongwu let out was close to a sob.  “You’re late.”

 

He could hear the horses clearly now.  It was clear everyone could. Seongwu tried to pinpoint Jonghyun in the crowd, sending him a burst of happiness and relief.

 

The riders had to be on their outer lines, now, minds disappearing from his hold.  Jarring in the suddenness, but easing the overall burden if only by a little.

 

_ Seongwu, my love.  Let go. _

 

Seongwu reached for the grip of his sword, having dropped it when his Gift had engulfed him, curling his fingers around it in an iron grip.  He forced himself onto his feet, eyes narrowed at the nearest enemy soldier — a knight in polished green armor, a stark contrast to Seongwu’s mud encrusted silver.

 

He took a breath in.  Focused. And then, like relaxing a muscle, he let go, feeling his hold dissipate.

 

He swung his sword, his mouth twisted into a mean, triumphant smile.

  
  


The journey to the southern kingdom of Sol-Sur took a little over a week when riding alone.

 

It took nearly double that to travel with a procession of any sort, the pace slowed by the carts you needed to bring along.

 

Minhyun had taken longer still, but as he rode into battle, a silver wolf on a strong warhorse, he was followed by a tide of gold.

 

For that, Seongwu supposed the time it had taken could be forgiven.

  
  


♕

  
  


Seongwu walked through their encampment with brisk steps, barely even noticing the glances thrown his way, his heart beating like a rabbit’s in his chest.

 

They’d won.  With the added help of Sol-Sur’s Golden Shields,  _ they’d won _ .  And, now, with the fighting over, all Seongwu could think about was Minhyun.  As if he’d ever truly stopped.

 

There were ramifications to be dealt with, fallout from the fighting that would need to be addressed.  One such thing was deciding what to do with his grace, Ha Sungwoon. Despite how very much Seongwu and Jonghyun both wanted to lop off his head and be done with it, they couldn’t just execute a monarch.  Not after he’d surrendered.

 

Another issue, one less pressing but arguably more important in the long term, was dealing with the knowledge of Seongwu’s Gift getting out.  The noble lords and ladies of Bern who had always looked at Seongwu with scorn for his golden eyes would be near tempted to kill him on the spot when they heard about the extent of his Gift.  Assuming they weren’t already drawing up plots, Seongwu knew there was no way they’d simply let him return at Minhyun’s side.

 

But that was for later.  That was for a better rested Seongwu, one who wasn’t nursing a horrid headache and more bruises and wounds than he’d like to consider.  For now, the only thing that mattered as he walked towards the newly erected main tent, Minhyun’s standards blowing in the light breeze outside, was-

 

“ _ Minhyun _ .”

 

It was breathed out with far too many emotions for the company Seongwu knew to be present in the tent with his king.  Said more like a prayer than with the formal tone expected when addressing a royal. 

 

But, Seongwu had learned these habits from his king himself, Minhyun far worse at keeping the lines of their stations clear.  It was evident enough in the way his head whipped up at Seongwu’s arrival, looking at him with something victorious and viciously  _ proud _ glittering in his dark eyes.  Obvious in how he abandoned his place at the table he and the others in the tent had been arguing over, moving with a sense of urgency until he was enveloping Seongwu in his arms and burying his face in Seongwu’s neck, nose cold where it pressed against exposed skin. 

 

“Seongwu.”  He pulled Seongwu impossibly closer, the lines of their bodies pressed together at every point.  Too close for a king and his commander. Not close enough for what they truly were. “ _ Seongwu _ .”

 

Seongwu flicked a quick glance around the tent, eyes sharp, warning, impertinent by all accords, before letting himself relax into the embrace.  He allowed his eyes to fall shut, breathing in the crisp air and Minhyun’s scent. Cool, like the evergreens that grew in their region, mixed with something warm and simple and so very Minhyun.

 

Seongwu let the feeling of watching eyes slide off him.  The amused gaze of Captain Nayoung, and Jonghyun’s exasperated huff.  The surprised note of King Jisung’s small “ _ Oh _ ”.  And the too-knowing tilt to Prince Daniel’s smile, still shrouded in his gold armor, a sharp contrast to Minhyun’s cool silver. 

 

_ My dear, dear Seongwu,  _ Minhyun thought at him, clear as if he’d spoken with their proximity, the sheer amount of physical contact.   _ My love, I’m so sorry I left.  I had to. We would’ve lost. King Sungwoon would’ve taken my kingdom.  He would’ve taken  _ you.  _  My love, please forgive me.  I thought of you every night.  I missed you by my side. Forgive me for not telling you, forgive me for not- _

 

_ Minhyun, I know. _  A single thought, fond and colored with all the relief, all the love Seongwu felt for the man in his arms, still tired and weary himself from what must’ve been weeks of negotiating.  Of compromising.  _ I’m not mad.  I could never be mad.  Not really. You’ll want to apologize to Jonghyun, but with me, I know.  I understand. How could I not when you bare yourself to me like this? I’m just happy you’re safe. That you’re home.  _

 

Seongwu leaned back just enough to cup Minhyun’s cheeks in his hands, meeting his king’s gaze.  He opened the memories of waking from dreams set in what he knew was the southern kingdom, despite never being there himself, to Minhyun, letting his king see what he’d seen.  Showing him the dreams Seongwu had quickly figured out couldn’t possibly be dreams at all, and watching the same realization flash through Minhyun’s eyes.

 

_ A bond distance couldn’t —  _ wouldn’t _ — break. _

 

Seongwu’s heart soared at the uninhibited smile that spread across Minhyun’s face, his cheeks pinking in a way that made Seongwu want to kiss them, kiss  _ him, _ decorum be damned. 

 

Instead he returned Minhyun’s blinding smile with one of his own. 

 

“Welcome home, my king.”

  
  
  


♕

  
  
  


They remained at their encampment in the days that followed, letting the men and horses of their combined fighting forces rest before beginning the trek back to Bern’s castle city.  Silver blended with gold, the troops of both sides mingling, something more than strangers to each other after having fought at each other’s sides. 

 

Prince Daniel found himself a particular favorite amongst Bern’s soldiers, laughing freely and drinking plenty with men and women that had taken years to warm up to Seongwu.   _ His _ attention, however, seemed to be single-mindedly focused on Seongwu. 

  
  


“We don’t have anyone with eyes like yours down south,” Daniel had laughed when Seongwu eventually gave in and asked.  “They shine in a way I’ve never seen before. I understand what Minhyun had meant, now.”

 

Seongwu blinked, caught off guard by the mention of Minhyun’s name, carefully ignoring the lack of formal address.  

 

“I apologize, your highness,” he said ( _ “Daniel is fine!” _ ), “But I don’t quite follow.”

 

Daniel had shrugged, a good natured smile still sitting idle on his lips.  “He said your eyes were captivating in a way no gem could ever be. He said that they’d likely come alive in the golden light of Sol-Sur.”  

 

He’d tilted his head, then, nose scrunching up in a way that belied the fact that despite his status and many achievements, he was still coming into adulthood.  Younger even than Seongwu, who was on the cusp of twenty-five himself. 

 

“In my opinion though, they come alive plenty well right where you are. They look like flames of the palest gold surrounded by all the rich greenery you have up here.”  At this, his genial smile turned a touch cheeky. “Minhyun is truly lucky.”

 

Seongwu’s jaw had dropped, heat rushing up his neck before he could stop it, ears positively burning with the special blend of mortification, embarrassment, and disbelief he was feeling.  Of course Minhyun had told a foreign monarch about them, Seongwu internally scoffed. Of course.

 

“I-” Seongwu cleared his throat, a small frown stemming entirely from panic drawing his brows down.  “It’s really not- we- Min-  _ his highness _ is-”

 

Before Seongwu could say any more — and likely make a grand fool of himself in the process — the sound of approaching footsteps and a loud, put out huff caught his attention.

 

“There you are,” Jonghyun grumbled, eyes squinting against the wind that picked up upon his arrival.  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Seongwu. We need to come up with a plan for our arrival that won’t end in our lovely court advisors ordering your exe- oh. Your Highness.”  Jonghyun came to a stop, noticing Daniel’s presence in the clearing they were in for the first time. “I didn’t see you there, my apologies.”

 

Daniel shook his head, staring at Jonghyun with wide eyes and a suspicious flush crawling up his neck, the color settling high in his cheeks.

 

“No apologies necessary,” he squeaked, voice coming out higher than it had been.

 

Seongwu bit back a snort.  He didn’t even have to do anything to find himself suddenly assaulted by thoughts that weren’t his own, his Gift hypersensitive from overuse and Daniel’s mind all but screaming with the volume he was thinking at.

 

_ Who was he again?  Did Minhyun introduce him? He had to have… damn.  What was his name? What was his  _ name _?  How could I have forgotten his name when he looks like  _ that _?  For fucks sake, Kang Daniel.  I can’t even reintroduce myself without looking like dunce.  Maybe I could ask Seongwu? Would that be too awkward? To forward?  Fuck me- _

 

_ Kim Jonghyun _ , Seongwu sent over to Daniel, all while smiling sunnily at Jonghyun.  “Prince Daniel here was just telling me a bit about our King’s time in the south. Do you need me now?”

 

_ He’s a close friend and often acts as an advisor to Minhyun. _

 

Jonghyun sighed, redirecting his attention back to Seongwu, the tension in his stance that had appeared when he’d registered Daniel’s presence bleeding away again.  “Preferably. Unless you still had business here?”

 

Jonghyun glanced over at Daniel.  A formality, really. Jonghyun trying not to be rude towards the foreign prince who’d come to their aid.

 

Daniel jumped regardless.  “No, no, of course not. Please, if you have things to discuss don’t let me interfere.”

 

_ He won’t eat you, you know _ , Seongwu thought, biting hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling at the unexpected yet wholly entertaining turn of events.  He’d never seen anyone quite so flustered over Jonghyun before, and Jonghyun was plenty popular amongst Bern’s nobility.

 

_ I don’t think I’d mind if he did? _ Daniel sent back, a charming amount of confused infatuation transferring over as well.

 

Seongwu did snort at that, barely managing to cover it with a cough when Jonghyun raised a very judging eyebrow at him.

 

“Shall we then?” he asked, gesturing with a hand in the direction Jonghyun had come from, smile still on his face.

 

Although, going by the way Jonghyun’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, his smile may have been edging into a smirk.  He acquiesced, though, falling into step when Seongwu started to walk back towards the maze of tents.

 

“A good day to you then, Lord Prince,” Jonghyun said, tipping his head in Daniel’s direction, and for a beat, Seongwu was seeing Jonghyun through Daniel’s eyes.  

 

He’d never noticed the strength of Jonghyun’s jaw before, or the way his hair shifted softly in the occasional breeze.  But, then again, Seongwu supposed he’d never looked much at anyone but Minhyun in the first place.

 

“It’ll only get colder as the day goes on,” Seongwu called over his shoulder.  “I suggest you think about grabbing a cloak soon if you plan to stay out like this.”

 

_ Jonghyun, _ he tacked on,  _ is very much unspoken for. _

 

Daniel laughed, the sound bright and childlike and all around friendly.  “Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind,” then, a touch shier, his gaze flitting to Jonghyun briefly, “A good day to you both.”

  
  


“I didn’t realize you were on casual speaking terms with Sol-Sur’s prince,” Jonghyun commented as they picked their way back to the main tent, stepping over strewn pieces of armor and other supplies, nodding their greetings to those that they passed.

 

“I’m not, or wasn’t,” Seongwu mused.  “I was curious as to why he always stares at me. I’m not used to receiving positive interest as a result of my eyes.”

 

Jonghyun snorted.  “I’m sure it’s not just your eyes that draw his attention.”

 

Seongwu laughed at the other man’s implication.  “To call me handsome is a fact,” he teased, relishing in how intensely Jonghyun rolled his eyes, “but I can assure his focus was centered on my being an Iosi. My people never lived that far south, after all. And besides, his  _ attention _ is already preoccupied by someone else.”

 

“Oh? He’s rather trusting to have shared that with you,” Jonghyun hummed.

 

“We’re allies now, are we not?” Seongwu said, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his lips.  “It seems Minhyun already revealed the nature of our relationship to him, anyway. The trust seems to go both ways.”

 

_ Although I doubt Daniel meant to reveal that bit of information _ .

 

Jonghyun sighed.  “Of course Minhyun did.”

 

“Don’t hold it against him,” Seongwu chuckled, lightly bumping his shoulder against Jonghyun’s.

 

“And which do you mean by that?”

 

“Daniel, obviously,” Seongwu scoffed playfully.  “Minhyun deserves what’s coming to him for nearly killing us with panic.”

 

Jonghyun snorted, holding open the entrance to the war tent for Seongwu, giving him a glimpse of Minhyun, a bandaged up Dongho, Minki, Lord Aron, and Captain Nayoung already inside.  “I doubt I’ll have many more interactions with the prince once this is all over for me to hold anything against him.”

 

Minhyun noticed them first, a warm smile breaking out on his face.  Gods, Seongwu loved him.

 

“A shame,” Seongwu hummed, bottom lip pushing out into a small, calculated pout, “Daniel would be so sad to hear that.”

 

And with that he left Jonghyun, blinking rapidly in confusion, to take his place by an equally confused looking Minhyun.

 

“Should I be concerned?” he asked, stepping firmly into Seongwu’s space, pressing their sides together.

 

Seongwu allowed himself to bask in the casual intimacy, safe to do so in the company they were in.

 

He gave Minhyun a smile, knowing the exact moment the other man read the mischief lining his expression.  “No,” he said, gleaning the current chaos of Jonghyun’s mind, the man over analyzing like Seongwu knew he would, “I shouldn’t think so.”

 

(“Are you sure it’s nothing I should be concerned about?” Minhyun asked again later, much later, the question punctuated with a sharp gasp as Seongwu pushed into him.

 

“Are you sure that’s what you want to talk about, now, of all times?” Seongwu half laughed in disbelief.

 

He shifted his hips, Minhyun squirming beneath him, sensitive and still not ready for Seongwu to move.  Minhyun’s muscles flexed beautifully, the ones lining his abdomen bunching up at the tension singing through his body.  Seongwu sighed, running a hand down Minhyun’s chest, fingers catching on new scars freshly healed. 

 

_ Beautiful. _

 

Minhyun flushed, Seongwu’s thought having been practically purred into his head.  More intimate than a whisper ever could be.

 

“You’re right.”  His voice broke off in a choked up moan, Seongwu rocking into him with the smallest motion, eyes trained on the way Minhyun’s biceps bulged as he scrabbled at the bedding under them.  “Now’s not the time.”)

  
  
  


♕

  
  
  


The night before their departure back to Bern was blanketed by a thrum of anticipation.  It felt a bit like they were on the precipice of something monumental, about to tip over into the unknown.

 

Considering all that had happened, and all that was about to, Seongwu supposed that wasn’t entirely wrong.

 

Bern, a kingdom that put negotiation at the forefront of its relations with neighboring kingdoms, had just won its first war in generations.  They’d be returning with King Sungwoon in chains, a delegation to be sent from Kell to discuss the terms of his release. 

 

The Golden Shields of Sol-Sur, who had never been seen further north than their kingdom’s borders, along with King Jisung and Prince Daniel, would be riding with them as a sign of their newly formed alliance.  The first change in Sol-Sur’s neutrality since the kingdom’s formation centuries ago.

 

And, as for Seongwu, he’d be returning to a court that knew, finally, what he could do.

 

Jonghyun had said they should anticipate the worst, Minhyun agreeing with a dark, hard edge to his eyes.  An angry clench to his jaw. With that in mind, Dongho and Nayoung had left a day earlier than they’d initially announced, taking with them a sizable chunk of their troops.  The hopes were they’d catch any plans for a coup unprepared, allowing for the Commander and Captain to put them to a swift end.

 

Seongwu didn’t like the plan.  Didn’t like the idea of others — people he considered  _ friends _ — risking their lives for his.

 

Minhyun had agreed, though.

 

“Round up anyone you suspect of dissent,” he’d said, eyes cold in the way Seongwu had only ever seen when someone spoke ill of him in Minhyun’s presence.  “Kill anyone confirmed of treason. Jonghyun’s spies will have a list ready upon your arrival. Needless to say, any who attack you are to meet the same fate.”

  
  


Which brought things to where they were now, Seongwu restless in his tent, mind racing with all the things that could possibly go wrong, unable to join their men in the night of rowdy drinking currently taking place around the fire pit used for meal time.

 

He was considering heading out to one of the areas cleared out for sword practice, running through some exercises until he was too tired to think, when the flap to his tent parted and Minhyun stuck his head in.

 

“There you are!”  His cheeks were flushed a pretty pink, eyes shiny and glazed.  He was smiling so brightly Seongwu almost had to look away. “I knew you’d be here. Never did like groups of people drinking, did you?”

 

Seongwu laughed softly, watching the young king sway slightly in the tent entrance, clearly drunk.  With his dark hair tousled and the laces of his under shirt hanging down his chest, revealing more skin than he should in the cold night air, Minhyun painted a lovely picture.

 

_ You always drink more than you can handle.  You don’t even  _ like _ wine in the first place. _

 

“It isn’t wine, it’s mead,” Minhyun said aloud, trying to keep his expression serious, quickly caving and dissolving into a fit of giggles.

 

“I’m not sure that’s much better,” Seongwu snorted.  He opened his arms, wiggling his fingers. “Come here before you tip over and cause a scene,  _ your highness _ .” 

 

Minhyun dropped to his knees and crawled forwards, the tent flap falling back into place behind him, blocking out the outside world once more.  He didn’t stop until he was in Seongwu’s lap, noses a hair’s breadth apart and hands curled in the loose cloth of Seongwu’s thin under shirt.

 

“Hi.”

 

Seongwu gave him a chaste peck on the lips.  “Hi.”

 

“Your eyebrows were doing the thing they do when you’re overthinking things,” Minhyun said, tongue coming out to swipe over his bottom lip, tracing Seongwu’s too by virtue of their proximity.  “You’ll age faster if you continue doing that.”

 

“I don’t particularly want to hear that from you, my love. You’re far worse about that than I am.”

 

“Mm.”  Minhyun bumped their foreheads together, their noses.  His lips brushed against the corner of Seongwu’s mouth when he spoke, his breath smelling of the mead he’d been drinking.  “I can’t help it. It’s my role to worry.”

 

Seongwu nipped playfully at Minhyun’s upper lip before moving to kiss at his jaw, licking and biting and sucking until there was a constellation of bruises blooming like flowers on his skin.

 

“It could be said that it’s my role as well.”

 

“Everything will be fine,” Minhyun said, voice surprisingly firm despite the liquor coursing through his system and the way he was tipping his head back, exposing the long column of his throat to Seongwu’s ministrations.  “Everything will be _ fine _ .”

 

“They’ll want me dead.”  Seongwu began working on the ties of Minhyun’s tunic.  It was a deep blue, embroidered with delicate silver. Made of the finest cloth the kingdom could provide.  A beautiful piece. Seongwu thought it would look better  _ off _ .  “This is an opportunity any would-be usurper would have to be daft to pass up.”

 

Minhyun tensed in his lap, pushing Seongwu back to arm’s length, ignoring his disgruntled whine and displaying strength he rarely used on Seongwu. “They won’t succeed. Between the two of us, and those around us, they will  _ not _ succeed.”

 

He pushed Seongwu all the way onto his back, then, crawling after him to drape his body along Seongwu’s.

 

“I’ll stamp out any rebellion that threatens your life. Any coup that threatens our peace.”

 

He rolled his hips down into Seongwu’s, pulling a startled gasp from Seongwu’s lips.  

 

“Anything.”   _ For you _ . 

 

Seongwu closed his eyes, the force of Minhyun’s emotions, his wants, his desires washing over him.  He let his hands wander over Minhyun’s sides, slipping his fingers under the thick material of his tunic, tugging it the last bit loose. 

 

_ That, _ Seongwu thought, eyes opening again to regard the man above him,  _ is exactly what they all fear.  _

 

Minhyun shrugged his tunic off, his undershirt quickly following, exposing his skin to the rapidly warming air of the tent.  “You would do the same.”

 

A statement, said without a trace of doubt. 

 

He began working on the ties of his pants, not caring that Seongwu was still mostly clothed.  Not caring that Seongwu was staring, eyes burning paths across Minhyun’s body like a man starved. 

 

Seongwu halted his hands, using the moment where Minhyun looked up, startled at the action, to buck his hips and roll them over. 

 

“You’re right,” he sighed into the crook of Minhyun’s neck, finishing what Minhyun had started with deft fingers.  He sat back on his heels, tugging Minhyun’s trousers off and leaving him bare.  _ You’re right. _

 

Minhyun stared up at him with heavy lidded eyes, dark hair fanning out around his head, a crooked grin gracing his bitten-pink lips.  Seongwu dragged a hand down from Minhyun’s hip to his knee, fingers digging into the strong muscles lining Minhyun’s thigh as he went. 

 

With quick, efficient movements, Seongwu rid himself of his own clothes, tossing them haphazardly to join Minhyun’s.  He stretched to grab the small bottle of oil he’d whisked away from the healer’s tent, relishing in the way Minhyun’s breathing audibly caught in his throat at the sight. 

 

“I’d do anything,” he said, upending the bottle over his fingers, the light scent of the oil filling the tent and sitting heavy on his tongue. 

 

Minhyun’s back arched beautifully as Seongwu ran a hand over his length, hard and curved up towards his stomach, already dribbling onto the contours of Minhyun’s muscles.  He made the softest whimper as Seongwu squeezed gently as he stroked. A broken moan as Seongwu left a slick trail down, down, down, delicately tracing the ring of muscle there. 

 

Seongwu leaned forward to capture Minhyun in a slow, deep kiss — more tongue than anything — as he pressed the first finger in. 

 

He swallowed down the chest deep groan that bubbled up Minhyun’s throat, drank up the breathy sighs that followed, the small pleas and whispers of his name. 

 

One finger became two, three, until Minhyun was thrashing under him, stopping just shy of using enough force to throw Seongwu off.  A shiver worked its way down his spine. The fact that Minhyun was stronger than him in so many ways, and yet still surrendered to Seongwu like this. 

 

_ Gorgeous _ . 

 

Seongwu removed his fingers, cock twitching at the obscene moan Minhyun let out at the sudden emptiness.  In his mead induced haze the sound came out too loud, too uninhibited. Anyone who walked by Seongwu’s tent would know what was happening, would know  _ who _ was in there with him.  That knowledge alone had a shock of arousal coiling tight low in his belly.

 

Seongwu sighed, nipping at the underside of Minhyun’s jaw before moving to suck at the soft skin just below his ear. 

 

“Seongwu,” Minhyun whined, shifting up against him, warm skin and smooth lines of strong muscle. 

 

“I’d do anything for you, my king.”  He reached down between them to stroke himself, once, twice, lining himself up to Minhyun’s entrance.  “Anything and more.” Seongwu grunted, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth thrust, Minhyun so warm and  _ pliant _ around him, under him.  “Don’t forget that.”

  
  
  


♕

  
  
  


Later, much later, when the sweat on their skins had cooled and they were wrapped around each other, covered by warm furs, Minhyun pressed a sleepy kiss to Seongwu’s throat from where he’d tucked himself under Seongwu’s chin like a large, pleased cat.

 

“Tomorrow, do whatever is necessary to keep us safe,” he whispered, breathe hot against Seongwu’s skin.

 

Seongwu tangled a hand in Minhyun’s hair, fingers finding purchase in the soft strands, while the other stroked a path along the expanse of his back.  “I would’ve done so without you telling me.”

 

Minhyun shook his head, the motion barely perceptible had he not been pressed so close.  His hair tickled Seongwu’s chin.

 

“You wouldn’t. Not if it were for yourself alone.”

 

“It would sadden you if something were to happen to me, though, would it not?” Seongwu asked, his voice deepened by oncoming sleep.

 

The arm Minhyun had thrown over Seongwu’s waist tensed.  His thoughts pushed their way into Seongwu’s head with the clear focus Seongwu had taught him years ago.   _ It would. _

 

“Your pain is my pain,” Seongwu told him, a soft smile curling at his lips.  “Haven’t you learned that by now?”

 

There was silence, calm and comfortable, while Minhyun mulled that over, the motion of his mind a physical presence.

 

When he spoke, it was with a small smile of his own, lips brushing the tender skin of Seongwu’s neck.  “I have.”

 

“You said it earlier. Everything will be fine.”  Seongwu curled tighter around Minhyun’s body, letting his breathing even out, welcoming the slow spread of sleep.  “I’ll do what needs to be done. We both will, and one way or another,” he pressed a kiss to the top of Minhyun’s head, leaving his nose buried there, “things will all work out.”

 

Minhyun hummed, a drowsy sound that easily faded into deep breathing as Minhyun finally succumbed to sleep.

 

_ Yes,  _ Seongwu thought to himself, warmer than he’d been in weeks with his lover, his king, his Minhyun safe in his arms.   _ One way or another, everything will be fine. _

 

Seongwu would make sure of it.  For the kingdom and the king they loved.  For Minhyun.

 

Seongwu would always make sure of it.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed the story I always love to hear what people thought in the comments, or for the shier reader, I also super appreciate kudos. They let us writers know our stuff was read and liked! And if anyone ever wants to come scream about wanna one, feel free to come say hi on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/nu_exooo)


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